Storm Surge
by Moontrimmer
Summary: She's been in love with him since the moment she saw him. For two years she's kept silent and hid in the shadows. Will this year be Senka's year? WarrenOC, slight LashOC at the moment. HIATUS!
1. Intro

Storm Surge

Summary: She's a solitary girl, always staying at a safe distance. She's been staring at the same guy for three years, but she always stays in the shadows. Will Senka overcome her fears? WarrenOC

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing...

**INTRODUCTION: Shadow Girl**

When I was little, I would ask my Mom why she named my Senka. It's not like it's a very common name, yaar? She told me that on the day of my birth, she had a premonition. (She's a seer, didn't you know?) She told me she saw this:

There was a woman standing in the shadows, melding with the shadows themselves. Somehow she knew it was her baby girl. It was an alley, she could tell, although it was very dark. The only light was emanating from a longhaired boy whose face was hidden. His hands were on fire, but it did not harm him. "Perhaps he was a pyrokinetic." She would suggest. Then, the girl materialized and stood in front of him. Mom said it was then that she got a look at his eyes. They were so cold, even though he was on fire. They were so hurt, and so confused, and so…lost. But this girl, me, took his hand and turned her and him into shadows. You could follow them with your eyes, she told me. They reappeared a few minutes later right outside of the dark, and he held her in his arms. Now, in his eyes, you could see he knew he truly belonged, he was truly loved.

Now what does this have to do with my name, you ask? Well, since I was able to meld with shadows, she named me Senka. It means 'shadow'. See?

I started Sky High three years ago. I remember what I wore that day. I had on my favorite pair of trash jeans, my camouflage Converse High Tops, and my Social Distortion tee shirt. Let's just say I wasn't dressed to impress. My make-up wasn't much either. I had dark eyeliner underlining the bottom of my eye that went out into a line. I don't even remember how many kids asked if I was like, Egyptian or something. But anyway, I tried to look so confident to that crowd, like I didn't have a care in the world. Truthfully, I was scared out of my fucking mind. Being at Sky High was a totally new experience for me, because my Mom didn't have an active power, I wasn't used to seeing powers in action like that. Sure, I'd had my powers since I was eleven, but I didn't use them a lot.

"Senka Poe!" Coach Boomer had shouted, and I walked up there, my façade not fading a bit. "What's your power?"

"Shadow Storm." I said, my voice barely reaching a whisper.

"LOUDER!" he shouted, living up to the name of Sonic Boom. I almost fell over for that one. I didn't say anything, I just demonstrated my powers. I caused the sky to blacken with clouds and melted into the shadows they left behind. From there, I started to isolate rain into the Gym, accompanied with lighting and thunder for an added touch. Before the raindrops hit the ground, I raised them up to form a gigantic tidal wave, and crashed it down upon Coach Boomer. That's what he got for making me feel so ridiculous. I came out from the shadows, and shot him a smile. He was fuming.

"SIDEKICK!" he yelled out, and I couldn't believe it. How could I have ended up a sidekick? All of a sudden, the rest of the freshman started shouting at Boomer, and complaining with his decision. Too bad it didn't work.

The next day was when I met Warren Peace. I recognized him as the guy who was called before me in Role Call. Our lockers were right beside each other in Freshman year. It was between classes, and I had forgotten to grab one of my textbooks during the last 'designated' locker break. And there he was, clad in leather and looking like he had just walked out of a rubbish bin. There was something about him that made my stomach flip around crazily, that made my heart pound loudly against my ribcage. Looking at him, I have never wanted anything more in my entire life. That first time I saw him, I knew I was in love.

Sad, isn't it, when the man you would die for doesn't know you exist…

Hey, that was the intro. I hope you like it, considering this is my first Sky High ficcie. I'm busy with school, but I'll try to get the next chapter up soon. I'll even give myself a deadline.

Chapter One: I Stand Alone

Due: November 5th, MY BIRTHDAY

Until then, Au Revoir!


	2. I Stand Alone

Storm Surge

Disclaimer: I don't' own anything…

HAPPY FOURTEENTH BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEE! Yay, hehe. This morning, as part of usual birthday routine, my Mom woke me up with "Happy Birthday" in Swedish, and gave me my morning present! I received "Extraordinary Machine," Fiona Apple's long awaited new CD! I'm so happy!

**Thanks To:**

**Patiens-liberi**: Advance Happy Birthday to you to! Also, Wicca as in the religion, not as in a band (LOL). About the lockers, I basing it as if it was my school and we have different sections for each grade, therefore you move into a new section each year. So yes, her locked "moved". Blessed be!

**Grim-Pirate: **Thanks! I will continue even if I die first. Hope you enjoy!

**Justloveinreturn4**: I'm glad you liked it, and here's your chapter. : )

**Shinigami11**: I know, isn't November awesome? Did you know Pablo Picasso was born in November? Yeah. Wicked, huh? I'm glad Senka isn't just another generic OC! Here's your chapter, so dig in!

**Thaedras**: I know? Isn't Warren so hot? (However, Senka is no Mary-Sue!) Thanks so much, I really hope you enjoy this. I'm glad you love my style!

**Thanks, I love you guys! I love reviews! You can never have too many! Yay!**

**CHAPTER ONE: I STAND ALONE**

You'd think that after last years "Hero-Support" rescue thing at Homecoming, Sidekicks like me would be treated better. However, not much has changed. It is just proof that people fear change, and therefore refuse to. But who ever said Rome was built in a day? All you can do is hope.

Homecoming was a nightmare for me! I was there stag (just like every year) and Warren had a date. Turns out, he was only going with Layla to make Will Stronghold jealous for her, which was a relief. Sadly, all was lost. I was standing three feet from Warren, and had finally worked up the courage to ask him to dance. I started walking over when he grabbed Crystal Shields hand, and started to dance with HER! I was so furious, and so crushed at the same time. If he wants a girl like Crystal, then I'll never have a chance.

Thing is, I'm not exactly what you would call pretty. (At least, compared to Crystal!) I guess I'm… average? I have midnight hair, which is sort of curly, but not in a frizzy way. It's more wavy than curly, really. It falls a few inches below my shoulders, and I normally wear the part sideways. My eyes are Aquarian blue, shocking and they stick out. I'd have to say they're my best feature. My skin is really light, and I have some freckles across my nose, and they REALLY stand out. My lips, thankfully, are not thin but full. I'm 5'4, and I feel so small compared to the rest of the world. I try to wear shoes that make me taller, but I can't really pull them off. (So I stick to Converse) I hate to say it, but I'm a bit pudgy. In fact, let's just say I don't have washboard abs. I wouldn't call myself fat, though. I normally wear band tee shirts (almost all the time) and I wear nothing but jeans unless I have Band Concert. So as I said, I'm hideous compared to Crystal.

Now that we've established that I have no chance once-so-ever with Warren, let's please not dwell on it, because it's very depressing. Are we clear? Good.

I start my Junior Year at Sky High tomorrow, and butterflies flitter in my stomach and then they turn into little biting moths. I never get any sleep the night before school starts, so I might as well not bother. I've learned to give into my chronic insomnia.

**The Next Morning….**

"SENKA LUCINE POE!" my mother shouted, since I had forgotten to set my alarm clock. I sighed, rolling over in my bed. I did not feel like going anywhere today. "I SAID GET UP NOW!"

"COMING!" I shouted back, getting up. The clock read seven-twenty, so I had until eight. I went to my closet and threw on a Soviettes tee and my written-on jeans. My shoes were the same as ever, my poor-in-condition camouflage Converse. I walked like a zombie into the bathroom and began my daily ritual of brushing my teeth, brushing my hair, using the loo, and applying my minimal amounts of make-up. I almost fell asleep going down the steps (I'm always tired, yet can't sleep), and I almost dropped my face into my oatmeal. I managed not to, and grabbed my backpack and headed out the door.

I hate riding the bus. It's noisy, people smoke, people make-out (get a room, please), it's crowded, and it's evil. In my freshman year, I can't tell you how many times people sat on me!

"Hey Spooky." Said Charlie Emitt, who is at my bus stop. Why he calls my Spooky, I will never know.

"Hey Charlie." I replied dully. He gave me a look, and shrugged. One by one, my bus stop filled with people. They included: several freshman, Hanna Charleston, Warren, Lisa Jordan, Oberon Mitchell, Kaye Fiennes, Benji and Xenia Fearch, and Abram Wilder. Of course, I'm there too.

"Oi! Bus!" Kaye shouted as the bright yellow bus with the number **65** that stood out in bold pulled up to the curb. We all shuffled to make a discombobulated line and we pushed and shoved our way through the doors. As usual, I ended up last in line. Thank Gods Charlie saved me a seat.

If I had to name one person as my friend, then I'd have to pick Charlie. He's always there for me. When I'm down, he tells me his stupid yet funny jokes. When I've got a bad grade (or one I'm not happy with) he's there to tell me it could be worse. When I don't have a seat on the bus, he saves me one. What can I say? I guess I just got lucky, huh?

"How's it been going?" Charlie asked.

"Eh, so so. Brad and Drew are as crazy as ever, and Mom bugs me as much as ever. You?" I replied.

"It's been blah. Riley beats me up, as usual." He replied dryly.

"You only have to be there until you graduate." I told him. "That's this year and next, and you're free."

"It seems to take longer the closer I get." He said, and I snorted.

"Sorry!" I shouted, throwing my hands up in surrender. "It was funny… at the moment."

Charlie shook his head.

"Whatever."

"Hey! It was!" I poked him in the arm.

"I never said it wasn't." he returned the poke.

"I'm not talking to you." I pouted and turned towards the isle. My nose touched the nose of a certain Warren Peace. I yelped and jumped back, almost squishing Charlie.

"Watch it," Warren growled.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" I argued. "And you should watch where you stick your nose."

Warren's eyebrow quirked up, gazing at me with his intense and dark eyes with a look of disbelief. I could drown in those eyes…

And then the bus landed. I sighed, and stood up. I walked off the bus, and Charlie and I began to walk up the front steps. I ran into a fellow sidekick, Magenta. She can turn into a guinea pig.

"Hey Senka!" she said.

"Uh, hi?" I replied unsurely, since I've only known her for a little while.

"I want you to meet my friends," she beckoned me over to where she was previously. There stood the famous Will Stronghold, some kid named Ethan who melts, "Zack Attack" AKA the glowing Gangsta-Wannabe, Happy-Go Layla, and Warren Peace.

"This is Senka Poe, and…" Magenta's voice trailed off.

"Charlie Emitt." Charlie introduced himself.

"It's nice to meet you." I added.

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed my butt. I spun around to see a stretched out hand go back to its owner. I couldn't believe it. Lash was back? I thought he got stuck in the permanent detention room or whatever?

"Could you hold on one second?" I told Magenta and the others. "I have to go make sure Lash learns to keep his HANDS TO HIMSELF!"

I shouted in Lash's general direction, and marched over to where I knew he was. He was leaning against the wall, slick as ever, and smirked when he saw me approach.

"Hey Senka." He grinned, stretching his arms to draw me close to him. I squirmed away.

"Why are you here?" I demanded. "Why aren't you with Royal Pain?"

"I convinced a few important people that I was going through a phase." Lash replied smugly.

I was literally seething. The skies were blackening with storm clouds. Lash looked up to the sky, and was pelted with heavy raindrops.

"I didn't know I was making you that mad." He laughed.

"Well you are. Why couldn't you just stay away?" I exclaimed.

"Isn't it obvious? I missed you too much." Lash was just getting started, but I turned away on my heel with a 'humpf'.

"That damn Lash!" I mumbled under my breath as I made my way to my new locker in the Junior Section. I stalked up to locker number 345 and began twirling in my combination.

"Thirty-Six…Six…Thirty-Eight…" I finished and pulled up on the thinger-ma-bob and it opened. That had never happened to me before, getting my locker open on the first try. I then proceeded to cram my things into the locker. It didn't work so well.

"Damn!" I shouted angrily when my things exploded back out at me. I quickly looked around, but spotted no teachers. "Retarded lockers and not fitting my things inside of them!"

"Insane?" asked a voice, and I looked up to meet the beautiful eyes of Warren for about the third time in the past hour.

"H-Hi W-Warren!" I squeaked, cringing at my stutter. I said the first thing that came to my mind. "Read any ginormous Russian books lately?"

Bad thing to say, I know. But I couldn't think if anything else! I could have hit myself, and I do believe I did.

"Are you making fun of my name?" Warren asked, his voice low and creepy and a little bit scary.

"Oh, you heroes and your temperaments!" I laughed shakily. I was loosing my nerve having Warren this close. My hormones were on the fritz! Seriously, they were going haywire on me. I quickly grabbed my things up off the floor, stuffing them back into my locker.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to Mr. Boy's classroom!" I rushed off towards my Homeroom class. Mr. Boy is always my homeroom teacher. As in, every year. (Oddly enough)

I've never been fond of the first day of school. It's just always so boring. You go to your classes and do nothing but listen to the teachers talk about their syllabus and stuff. It's all really very dull. I spent most of my day fuming at the thought of Lash here again. He's repeating his Senior Year!

The thing between Lash and me started last year. I guess it's because I grew boobs, maybe? I don't know why exactly. At first, I thought it was exciting, a senior paying so much attention to shy old me! But then it got a little scary; it was like he was stalking me, almost. Lash and I went out for while, actually. When we broke up, he seriously was stalking me. I thought I was free when the incident with Royal Pain occurred and he was part of it. It just goes to show that you should never assume anything.

This year, we're doing the oddest thing. To prepare us for working with Superheroes, they're pairing up Sidekicks and Heroes during Save the Citizen. I was so nervous; I got paired with Warren (someone is just trying to make me choke). My nerves were wrecked. Boomer called me down from the stands, and we fought Devola Smith and Emelie Dean. Devola is telekinetic and a telepath mixed together, and Emelie can turn herself colors of the rainbow.

The clock started, and Devola started mind-pelting Warren before anything else. You could tell because he was clutching his head in pain. Emelie and I just stared at each other. For the heck of it, Emelie flashed colors, and it kind of dazzled me for a moment.

"Sorry, Emma." I apologized in advance.

"It's okay. I don't like Devola anyway." Emelie shrugged.

I closed my eyes, conjuring up the powers of a storm. The world grew dark, and the sound of a train could be heard. I think I accidentally conjured up a tornado!

………………….

Oops.

Shadows formed everywhere, and a small cyclone appeared. It only reached my hip, thank the Gods. Devola's attention was torn away from Warren and a scream erupted from her. Warren simply stood there, breathing heavy and still clutching his head like it was a lifeline or something. I glanced at the clock; we only had thirty seconds left.

"Shit," I grumbled under my breath. "I can't believe I have to save the damn citizen."

Sighing, I melded into the shadows. I flew towards the citizen at top speed. I positioned myself for a jump, and flung myself forward, coming out of shadow form, grabbing the citizen a few seconds before it got cut into one million pieces. I landed on the gym floor with a thump.

Everything was silent when the buzzer that signaled the end of the game sounded. I used this opportunity to will the tornado to unwind, and the clouds to retreat. Out of nowhere, many of the sidekicks (including Emelie) began to clap and whistle profusely. Most people in my situation would wave or something of the such, however, I did not. I just wished everyone would stop. I hate attention.

"Team Peace wins." Boomer announced, in some sort of a trance. I bolted out of that gym as fast as my legs could carry me. By the time I was outside, my sides were burning and my hands were on my knees.

"Hey!" a voice shouted from behind me. "Wait up!"

I turned my head, and saw that it was Warren. My breath caught in my throat. Why was he here? Why did he follow me? Since I couldn't possibly run anymore, even if I tried, he managed to catch up to me.

"Nice job during Save the Citizen." He congratulated me, and I swear I saw a hint of a smile from him.

"Er, thanks?" I replied, unsure of what to say. Around Warren, I was _never_ sure as to what to say. I get all tongue-tied and it bugs me. Well, either that or my mind practically goes blank. It's like, _poof_! And my thoughts are gone.

"Hoe come you're a sidekick?" he inquired.

"Because I pissed off Coach Boomer during power placement and he threw me into the castoff pile." I informed him, and he nodded in comprehension.

"Well, er, have a nice day." He offered, and we walked back up to the school together. From there, I went off to the rest of my classes.

The rest of the day (while short) whizzed past me like I was standing on the sidewalk and it was NASCAR. Before I knew it, I was walking home from my bus stop. With a sigh, I opened the door.

"I'm home!" I shouted. No one answered, of course. Everyone was at work, as usual. I went on with my normal routine, and sat around until 5:00 and then started dinner. I finished just as Brad and Drew, my brothers, walked through the door.

"Thanks!" their voices echoed in unison, and they resumed to stuff their faces with fish. Mom got home two hours later, as usual. Everything was it's usual pedestrian day.

As I laid down in bed that night, I had no idea what life was about tom toss my way.

There is was! I hope you all enjoyed it.

Chapter Two: Smile When Your Heart is Breaking

Due: November 18th, 2005

Until then, my friends, au revior!

-Kevan!


	3. Smile When Your Heart is Breaking

Storm Surge

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize…

Here's Chapter TWO, coming your way, people. Thanks to all my reviewers, I love you so much! HUGGLES! I would have gotten it up earlier today, but wouldn't let me log on! EVIL PEOPLE!

**Marshmellowpie**: By the next chapter, do you mean chapter one or this?

**Rootbeergirl19**: I'm so glad you like my story.

**Attila-the-Honey**: Me? Lol. You make it sound as if it's a bad thing!

**Lita Lightning**: Without chaos, nothing can evolve. So of course!

**Faith**: Thanks, I'm glad you think it's so awesome. Here's the chapter you've been waiting for.

**Lt. Commander Richie**: Hyper much? 

**Grim-Pirate**: I rule? Awww! I'm so flattered! I'm also flattered that you thought, once again, I've done a great job. Thanks!

Reviews are always welcome, as well as constructive criticism. You don't need to burn me though, I do enough of that on my own. To anyone else I forgot, though, I LOVE YOU! hearts

**Chapter Two: Smile When Your Heart is Breaking **

It's been two months since the incident with Save the Citizen. I haven't participated since. I really don't have a clue as to what the fuck is the matter with me! I want Warren to really, truly notice me so bad, but when it happens I wish it didn't. It reminds me of how, in the seventh grade, we talked about parts of a story line and stuff. The part I remember best was Conflict. There are two types, internal and external. Internal conflict is also known as man vs. man, man vs. self, (They can both mean the same thing!) a conflict within the character's own mind. A perfect example of that is the narrator in Edgar Allen Poe's, "The Tell-Tale Heart." I sort of feel that way myself, however, I don't feel like committing murder because I'm schizophrenic, and the voices told me to.

What I'm meaning to say is that I'm going through a classic case of Internal Conflict, the famous man VS man, man against himself. My mind is in turmoil, it can't figure out what it wants. I'm so confused, and lost, and I don't have a clue as to what I'm supposed to do here!

One minute, I want Warren so badly to love _me_! I want him to turn his back on Crystal and never ever glance over his shoulder, not once. This half of me tells me to get his attention, make him fall in love. The other half tells me I don't have a chance. It says that I should just go on being the Shadow Girl that I am, that I know how to be. This half of me recites the lines of that song; I forget what it's called. Smile, maybe?

_Smile, when you're heart is aching,_

_Smile… even though it's breaking…_

To do anything else would be pointless, foolish, and destroy me inside.

It's like I have schizophrenia or something, I don't know. Maybe it's my conscious? God only knows. I'm just so tired of arguing with myself.

I hate going to school. Well, at least, I hate going to superhero school. I guess I miss just being normal, back before I got my powers. I liked learning about the American Revolution and I always liked Science. Science captivated me, you know? I was always ahead in that class. Now, I take a whole bunch of shit with rays and who knows what else for Science.

I should be thankful to be 'blessed' with powers, but I suppose I'm not really grateful at all. I think of them as more of a curse. I want to grow up and be, I don't know, _normal_ maybe?

Eurgh, enough of that.

I woke up this morning with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I kind of sat there, meditating on it. But then I decided I was probably just hungry and proceeded to stuff myself with pancakes. Drew thought it was hilarious because I had syrup dripping on my chin. Well Drew, have you looked in the mirror lately? I hate my brothers. They are the single most evil beings to ever inhabit planet earth, I swear.

I went out to the bus stop late. I almost missed it, but Charlie told the driver to stop and let me on. I love Charlie, he's so cool. He saved me a seat too, just like every day! Wasn't that nice of him. The ride to school was boring, as usual. But today I had my CD player.

_She kisses everyone goodbye_

_And waves her middle finger high_

_They're never gonna mess with her again_

_The drama queen is seventeen_

_And sleeping with the boys for free_

_She's got a reputation of being easy_

_Every time they put her down_

_She makes a fist and tears roll down_

_She packs her bags and plans to run away_

_She's saying goodbye_

_And leaving tonight_

_She's wasted all her lonely teardrops_

_She's saying goodbye_

_And leaving tonight_

_She's used up all her lonely teardrops now_

_She thinks about herself_

_And cares about nobody else_

_Because the only friends she has all put her down_

_They hate her when she's beautiful_

_And even more when she's a fool_

_They talk behind her back when it's her birthday_

_Every time they put her down_

_She makes a fist and tears roll down_

_She packs her bags and plans to run away_

_And every time she makes a friend_

_The viscous cycle starts again_

_She's never, ever, ever looking back_

_She's saying goodbye_

_And leaving tonight_

_She's wasted all her lonely teardrops_

_She's saying goodbye_

_And leaving tonight_

_She's used up all her lonely teardrops now_

_She's saying goodbye_

_She's wasted all her lonely teardrops_

_She's saying goodbye_

_She's used up all her lonely teardrops now_

_Every time they put her down_

_She makes a fist and tears roll down_

_She packs her bags and plans to run away from here_

_And every time she makes a friend_

_The viscous cycle starts again_

_She's never, ever, ever looking back_

_She's saying goodbye_

_And leaving tonight_

_She's wasted all her lonely teardrops_

_She's saying goodbye_

_And leaving tonight_

_She's used up her lonely teardrops now_

_She's wasted all her lonely teardrops now... (1)_

The song stopped just as the bus pulled up at school. I jumped out, and headed up the steps. Our bus was a little late because of me, and the first bell had already rung. I raced to my locker, and luck would have it, all of my things fell right out. I groaned, frustrated, and bent to the floor. I was trying to balance all of my things on my knee when a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed it for me. It was Lash, what a surprise.

I tried to push him away, but he was insistent. Sighing, I let him carry my things to my class. He actually seemed like a gentleman. Just before I walked into Mr. Boy's class, he handed me a folded up slip of paper. I took it, shrugging, and took my seat. While we listened to announcements, I read it.

_Senka,_

_Tonight there's this party at Stronghold's house, this time his parent's actually consented. I'm inviting you, because you'll get invited anyway. (Since you're that guinea pig's friend)_

_-Lash_

It was short, but beneath it laid a message that he'd been sending me forever. "ill you go out with me? Please reconsider." I'm so tired of it, he doesn't get it.

…

I guess I'll go to the party. What harm could it do?

**Later That Night**

I stood in front of my mirror, my confidence wavering even more than usual. I never really liked parties, and I'm not very social when it comes to them. It took me hours to decide what to wear, with hours of Drew and Brad teasing me about it.

In the end, I opted for a halter top that has shades of purple (dark at the top and fading lighter at the bottom) with a pair of stonewashed jeans and Chuck's. My make-up was simple. I had a light purple eyeshadow, minimal amounts of eyeliner, and sheer lip-gloss. I was so nervous I was practically shaking. I hitched a ride with Brad, who was heading to work for the late shift.

"Have fun, my little shadow!" he teased as his car pulled off. Even though he couldn't see me, I stuck my tongue out at him. I turned to face the Stronghold house. Music vibrated the air outside the house, and lights danced from within the windows. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the door. Before it opened, a smiling girl opened the door.

"I knew you were there!" she said, pointing to her third eye. "Second sight, you know."

I nodded unsurely, and walked inside. I was there for nearly five minutes before Lash noticed me. He brought me over a cup of punch, and I took it gratefully.

"So you decided to come." He observed.

"Thank you Captain Obvious." I replied snarkly. (A/N: Is that even a word?)

He laughed, and walked away. I carefully sipped my punch, and it tasted amazing. I went back for more.

After an hour or so, and God knows how much punch, I was drunk. Surprise, surprise, somebody spikes Will's punch. So, like I said, I was shit-faced. I was clumsily walking around when I bumped into Lash, literally.

"Whoa there!" he exclaimed, taking my hands. "Slow down, partner."

"Stop Lash!" I struggled against his arm. "Let me go!"

He gave me a surprised look, and let go. I looked him in the eyes, and saw sincerity. He was actually trying to be nice. He was actually kind of caring. That caught me off guard.

I'm not exactly sure what happened next, but I do remember going upstairs with Lash. I guess we started kissing, and I remember wanting to feel wanted so bad. The past couple months have not been the easiest, but they have been some of the loneliest. I kissed him with a longing that my heart ached for… the longing for love.

One thing led to another and, before I knew it, we were in the bed. You can guess what happened next. Afterwards, I stumbled out of the house and down to the paper lantern. I had sobered up a bit, and the reality of what I had done hit me full force, smack in the face. I was utterly disgusted with myself.

What I couldn't get over was why I hadn't said no. Was I really that pathetic? Apparently I was really that pathetic. But the thing was, I never really said yes either.

I wasn't able to confront my own family at the moment, so I walked into a restaurant full of strangers. Since it was late, there were only a few people. I took a booth in the back of the room and moaned, putting my head in my hands.

_What had I done?_

Tears began to slip unbidden down my face. They were salty and hot, and I could taste them. Soon, a boy came to my table with a bucket full of dishes.

"Senka?" he asked slowly, as if he didn't believe it was me. "Senka Poe?"

I looked up, and to my utter disbelief, it was Warren Peace. _The_ Warren Peace.

"What do you want!" I snapped, my voice breaking. He took a seat across from me, concern written all over his face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

With a sigh, I told him my story. Every painful detail. Through pain, tears, and even hair being tugged on violently in shame, he listened.

LineLine

So that was Chapter Two! I hope you all liked it. And don't forget, KEVAN HEARTS REVIEWS!

Chapter Three: What A Tangeled Web We Weave

Due: December 3rd

Yes I know, I always put two weeks for a deadline. That is because I am a busy person and have a life.

Guess whose going to see HP tomorrow as a birthday party (2 weeks late?)

I AM! I AM! I AM!

How about you?


	4. What A Tangled Web We Weave

**Storm Surge **

Summary: She's a solitary girl, always staying at a safe distance. She's been staring at the same guy for three years, but she always stays in the shadows. Will Senka overcome her fears? WarrenOC Slight LashOC at the moment

Disclaimer: I can only claim Senka Lucine Poe.. and my other made up peoples...

Thanks to all my reviews and non-reviewers who have stayed with me through December and waited patiently. This story has more reviews than, I think, all my other stories combined. Wowsas! And so I'd like to first thank ALL of my reviewers, not just the ones who reviewed after _Smile When Your Heart is Breaking_. I won't name you all, because you know who you are.

**Warrensgurl: I'm so glad you loved it, and here is your long awaited update.**

**Rootbeetgirl19: GoF was awesome, as a movie. But in comparison to the actual-factual GoF, as with all movies modeled after books, it was poor and left out some pretty wicked stuff.**

**Salt In Your Wounds: Wow, thanks. A script for something, eh? How about Sky High 2? I guess I'll just take the cookie since I'm so glad that I made a fan out of you.**

**Lived and Live BB4L: Yay! I'm so happy that you were able to view the page or whatever! dances **

**Lt. Commander Richie: That's normally my plan for movies, also. Amazing, isn't it, how great minds think alike?**

**Neva: I'm talented! WOOT. I love being complimented. hehe**

**T: I would post more often but I have this thing called a life where I have to do Jazz Band, study, go to school, apply for WRA, Academic Challenge, Yearbook Meetings, Pep Club, chores, and baby-sit. Trust me, I wish I didn't have a lot of that stuff, lol.**

**Tenni: I know, I feel bad for putting Senka through a lot of the stuff that I do. But hey, if life was fair, it wouldn't start in High School. Actually, it probably wouldn't start anytime. But I don't plan on Warren 'pitying' her at all. Senka is too proud for such a thing, anyhow.**

**RoXxXxXxi: Here's your more.. and don't forget to use commas and proper spelling! smiles**

**orliefan: I love Warren too.. back off, he's MiiiinnnneE! lol. Hey, what's an orlie?**

**Lived and Live BB4L: Hey look, it's you AGAIN! Wow.**

**My-Uneasy-Heart: Thanks! Sometimes when I read it I can't believe I wrote it. Here's your update!**

**T: Hey, it's another repeat. And yes, I know, a month. Don't rub it in.**

Wow, that was a lot of people. I feel so SPECIAL! huggles and bursts into song _I am special, there is no one else like me! I'm a wonder... I can think and feel and dream... I'm a marvel, and more! I can love you, feel for you, show you how special you can be!_

Okay, sorry, I'm done. And ready to give you WHAT A TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE!

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_Chapter Three: What a Tangled Web We Weave_

**Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive****." -Sir Walter Scott**

Staring into the mirror, I can't help but thing of what utter destruction I've set upon my fragile heart. I'll never be able to be with Warren, I've given myself away to Lash. Unbelievable, huh? I mean, I've loved Warren since I saw him that day at my locker oh so long ago, and now my hopes have been shattered. It was bad enough thinking about comparing myself to Crystal Shields, but now...

Maybe you don't understand, so I'll make it clearer for you. I gave myself to Lash, and I can never take that back. I will feel ashamed about it for the rest of my mediocre life. I'm disgusted with myself, to tell you the truth. I was so careless as to throw away something so precious as my virginity, something I will never be able to regain. Maybe being a virgin doesn't mean a lot to you, but there's something special about it for me. I'm not into the abstinence until marriage thing, but I am into making it special and with someone you truly and utterly love. Maybe that person will be your significant other, maybe they won't. Regardless, you'll always remember them as not only being your first, but being your sweetheart and someone who meant a lot to you. Honestly, I wanted it to be Warren. I always harbored hope inside my heart that we'd be in love and do something like that, but I can't. I'm not the kind of girl who just sleeps with a guy and pretends he doesn't exist the next day. In fact, I'm going out with Lash now. Tonight is our third date this month, actually.

"Senka!" Drew shouted up the stairwell. There's some _boy_ at the door for _you_." I almost laughed at the way he said that, too.

"Coming!" I yelled and I stomped down the steps. At the door was none other than Lash. He smiled when he saw me, and offered me his arm. I took it gratefully, and he led me to his trashy old truck. It's a red pickup with dents covering it on all sides. Ha, you think that's bad? You should see the inside! It's a dump. There are McDonald's bags everywhere, and cups littered the floor. The dashboard was home to countless papers that were from God knows when.

"I bet you really missed this, eh?" Lash joked as he put the key into the ignition. I flashed him a smile, shaking my head in silent laughter. We drove for a while, the radio pumping with sounds of KISS, Loverboy, and Sting. Lash and I are both into Big Hair bands and stuff like that, and some 70's stuff. I'm a huge Pat Benatar fan, though.

"Here we are!" Lash announced as we pulled up to a rickety looking place. The lit neon sign above the door read "Nevermore' and I had never heard of it in my life.

"What is this?" I inquired, only to be met with a smug look and an arm around my shoulders.

"You'll see!" he whispered into my ear as he led me inside. instantly I recognized it as one of those places where you drink coffee and read poetry all day. I don't think I've ever smiled a truer smile in my life. The thin about Lash was he could really be amazing and sweet if he wanted to. (which he rarely did). Yet somehow, he knew that I would absolutely adore this place. I'm very glad I brought my poetry notebook, but of course I carry it everywhere with me.

We took a seat at an empty booth and I closed my eyes. The sounds of that girl's voice, the rhythms of her poem, they calmed my mind. I was already anxious to get up there. I can't quite explain what reading poetry feels like to me, but I'll try. Have you ever been to the top of a mountain and stared out across the sky, and felt like you were in Heaven, like you were God? That's what it feels like for me and it's the most amazing feeling. It's like I'm motherfucking God and nothing can possibly go wrong.

"Senka," Lash prodded. "It's your turn, go up now."

I got up and walked towards the stage. Taking a deep breath, I prepared to be God and be set free.

"_I smile at them as they pass  
Meaningless faces, meaningless smiles  
Some of them think they know me  
But they don't see the darkness  
Welling up –inside- _

I listen to them chattering  
Insincere voices, insincere words  
Some of the talk about me  
But they don't speak of the emptiness  
From which I have to –hide-

I toil at my studies  
Pointless concepts, pointless problems  
Some of them mean to strain me  
But they don't share the pain  
That I must always –bear-

I stare at the screen late at night  
Meaningless verses, meaningless words  
Some of the bled from my fingertips  
But they don't aid my endless fight  
To keep my dying soul –alight-"

I finished and stared out at the crowd. They clapped for me, for what I had written. I gave a shy, faded smile and walked over to Lash. He had ordered us coffee, and remembered how much I love English Toffee Cappuccinos.

"I really liked that." He commented in between sips from his Latte.

"Thanks." I said, my voice distant. To say the least, my mind was elsewhere. Of course, that's not really anything new. Anyhow, the rest of the night was peaceful and I enjoyed it very much. However, having to get back into that sty that Lash called his baby I could have lived without. When I got home, Lash walked me up to the door. It was late, yet the porch light shed a soft glow above us.

"I had a nice time tonight." I whispered, giving him a hug. I knew he wanted more than that, though.

"I'm glad." He told me, and made to leave.

"Lash?" I asked, and he turned. On an impulse, (those damn things have been taking over me far too often lately) I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. For a fraction of a second I could feel his shock, but it only took him that long to respond. He bit my bottom lip as I pulled away.

"Bye Lash," I bid him goodbye. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Lash said quietly. "Tomorrow."

And so another school day begins!

I was startled when Brad called me downstairs that morning; usually he had already left for work. Brad and Drew, like Mom, were inactive. They were just like I would be. Blearily I did my morning routine which you've heard before and met Mom in the kitchen a few minutes later. I gulped down four glasses of orange juice in the kitchen alone, and grabbed two cans for the bus stop.

"Hey Spooky!" Charlie greeted me, punching me lightly on the shoulder. I grinned and punched him back.

"Hey yourself, stranger." I laughed and went to sit on the bench right behind me. Much to my utter surprise, Warren sat next to me. Normally he hated being sat next to, period. (Even in class.)

"How are you doing?" he asked quietly. I sighed, and I hated the look he gave me. It was one of those looks of pity and sympathy. I hate being pitied, I don't need anyone's charity.

"Don't look at me like that!" I snapped, without thinking. What was wrong with me, I never snapped at people! I felt bad as soon as Warren looked confused.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "It's just… I don't want your pity Warren! I don't want your sympathy, and I don't need any of your charity. I know that sounds cruel, but…"

"I understand." Warren admitted. "And I'm sorry, because I know how you feel. You want to be left alone."

"No," I corrected him, before he could leave. "I just want a friend, a straight up and honest friend who isn't being nice to me because he feels sorry for me."

At that moment, the bus pulled to a stop at the curb. I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyes and I made a mad dash to the growing line. I tried breathing slowly and tilting my head up, but nothing worked. I was about three seconds away from bursting out into tears. Thankfully, I made it without doing so until I got to the back seat, which Charlie had saved. That's when the dams broke.

"What's the matter?" Charlie asked, confused.

"Everything is just so messed up!" I choked out through tears. "I'm going out with Lash, who I don't love. The guy I love knows about everything and I can never be with him because he's got a girlfriend anyway, and oh, Charlie! I just can't take it anymore!"

Charlie stared at her, and incredulous look upon his face. He awkwardly reached out and patter her on the back, and Senka cried onto his shoulder.

"Care to elaborate?" Charlie asked after they had reached school and she had dried her eyes. With a sorrowful sigh, she decided to explain.

"I've loved Warren since freshman year, yaar? Well, it broke my heart when he started to go out with Crystal Shields and my head knew I'd never had a chance if he liked girls like Crystal, but my heart still thought just maybe, you know? Do you know how Will Stronghold had that party three weeks ago? I got totally drunk and had sex with Lash. Now I feel all obligated to be with Lash, at least for a while and it all just hurts too much." I said this all with one breath and my face was red and flushed. By this time, we were almost to Charlie's locker when the first bell rang.

"Shit!" I exclaimed. "I have to go to my locker now, or I'll be late!"

I actually broke out in a run but got stopped by Coach Boomer. I hate having to see him everyday, but first teacher of the morning? This day was not starting out very well.

"Poe!" he shouted. "No running in the halls!"

"Sorry Coach Boomer, sir." I sighed. "You can give me my detention slip now."

What a surprise, Coach Boomer gave me detention for after school. I _loathe_ detention. I always get stuck next to the creepy weirdo who picks his nose and then eats the boogers. I shudder at the very thought of it. It's also no a surprise that I was late to class for more reasons than one. I was late to my locker and it would not open, which really isn't new. What happened next was, though. Lash snuck up behind me, and his arms wrapped around my waist. I let out a squeak of surprise.

"Lash!" I tried to struggle out of his grasp. "I'm already late for English!"

"Then skip it," he whispered into my ear, and god did it tickle. "And hang with me."

"You know I won't do that." I scolded, mustering up one of my best glares. He simply ignored it and began kissing my neck. The thing that bugs me most about Lash is that he doesn't know when to stop. He'll just keep on going and going, until he falls off the edge of the upper extreme, and even then he'd try to go farther. "Could you please stop?"

As I have aforementioned, Lash does not know the meaning of 'stop'. By now, he had moved up to my lips and pushed me against my locker. My arms were out of my control and slid up his shirt. Then my brain took control of my body and escaped by sliding to the floor. Lash looked down at me with an annoyed smile.

"Come on Senka, get up." He said impatiently, but I crawled between his legs so I was now behind him. "What's up with you?"

"I have class, that's what's up." I sighed. "Lunch, okay? Maybe Spanish."

Lash threw me a rueful grin and I headed to English. Mr. Alloy was fuming at me for being late, but he'd hate even if I weren't. I don't know why he hates me, and I probably never would. Mr. Alloy was a loony, to put it plain and simple.

The rest of the day wasn't nearly as horrible as the rest, and passed by in the breeze. Soon enough, it was time for lunch. She decided to take a break from eating outside in the courtyard and instead sat down next to Warren. Ethan ("Popsicle-Boy"), Zack, Magenta, Layla, and Will were all there already.

"Hey Senka!" Magenta greeted her, being her usual purple self. Layla flashed her a shiny smile, Ethan waved, Zack did absolutely nothing, Will smiled, and Warren whispered a soft "hey". Warren was, as usual, just staring at his food. I was on a diet, but was itching to have his pudding. I mean itching very badly.

"Are you gonna eat-" I began, but was cut off when Lash came up behind me (he apparently likes to do that) and rested his head on top of mine. "Hey Lash!"

Everyone at the table all gave Lash evil glares and Layla stared at me with a disapproving look. I stuck my tongue out at her and glanced sideways at Warren. His hands were smoking just a little. It's amazing how protective of me he's become. I got up and grabbed my shoulder bag.

"Bye guys, I'll see you in Gym." I waved goodbye and followed Lash to one of the many Janitor's closets. Once inside, he pulled me as close to him as humanly possible and the proceeded to kiss me silly. After a while, I was really dizzy and didn't know why. Then I remembered since I am not a fish and do not have gills I need air. I gently pulled away, even though Lash was very reluctant about it.

"I have to breath, thanks." I laughed, and Lash still couldn't take his eyes off my lips. So I rolled _my_ eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck. He grinned and leaned down to kiss me. Afterwards, I sighed happily. Lash was no Warren, but it was nice to be wanted.

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And that, my lovely friends, was Chapter Three. I hope you enjoyed it, and it's a little longer than usual because of the wait you managed to endure. Because I love all of you to pieces.

Happy New Year all of you! Plus, wish me good luck. I'm taking my SSAT on Saturday for my acceptance into Western Reserve Academy.

**Chapter Four: The Suicidal State of Mind**

**Due: January 10th**


	5. The Suicidal Mind

**Storm Surge**

Summary: She's a solitary girl, always staying at a safe distance. She's been staring at the same guy for three years, but she always stays in the shadows. Will Senka overcome her fears? WarrenOC Slight LashOC at the moment

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize!

Hey my home-fries! As always, I'm giving a quick shout-out to my lovely reviewers for Chapter Five: What a Tangled Web We Weave. (as always) Also as always, I love you guys so much because I LOVE REVIEWS! Squeals! Now that we've established that, here we go:

**Tenni: Not to insult anyone else, but your review has been my favorite so far. It's mostly because of the line "I'd like to say that I like how you show her struggle to stay strong even though she slowly breaking." I guess I just can't help it but adore that! But also because yours has not just said 'wow, I love this' or 'please update', it really lets me know why you like Senka, why want to hear her story. Thanks!**

**DreamerGirl 101: Sorry, I would have made it earlier but this week was a little busy for me. **

**Vlad Plasmious: Thank you, thank you. I love how it's 'cool'. Hehe! Here's your update!**

**Monkey: Thanks, I appreciate your review. Hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**Omnia: It's realistic! How wicked, it's nice to hear that my story is realistic, well, as realistic as a story about superheroes can be. Lol**

**Lt. Commander Richie: Thanks! But, I have to thank you, because you've reviewed on almost every chapter!**

**Corky: It was awesome, wasn't it? Thanks for reviewing!**

**XmarksthespotX: Wow! Madly in love, how cool is that! I feel like my life has purpose, lol.**

**Lived and Live BB4L: It's a test that will determine my entry to a boarding school I'm applying for. Thanks for the luck, I really hope I did well!**

**So, thanks to all of you! And as I constantly remind all of you reader-people, I LOVE REVIEWS and they are ALWAYS LOVED AND APPRECIATED. So that means throw me a review, it makes me feel special. :)**

**_PLEASE READ:_** Warning, this chapter is kicking up the angst a bit. I'm trying to show the side of Senka that came out a little bit in the last chapter, where she can't seem to keep herself together. Just warning you that some of you may find this chapter unappealing or you just plain won't like it. This is a serious chapter people, talking about real issues teenaged and non teenaged females face.

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Chapter Four: The Suicidal Mind

"**Suicide is a form of murder - premeditated murder. It isn't something you do the first time you think of doing it. It takes getting used to. And you need the means, the opportunity, the motive. A successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind." **_– Susanna ((Girl; Interrupted_))

Ever since I was ten, I've been diagnosed with clinical depression. My therapist used to say that, judging by appearances, I wasn't the kind of kid he expected to see in his office. I remember asking him if his mother ever told him not to judge a book by its cover. Of course, my therapist used to say a lot of things to me. I actually learned quite a few of my life's lessons from him, not that I think about it.

"Senka, why don't you tell me how you feel right now." He'd ask me and at first I'd just stare blankly at him. My mother always told me that my feelings were my personal business (of course, then she sent me to a shrink, of all things) But being the person I was, I told him.

"I feel tired." Of course this is not the answer he was expecting, but he always took things in the wrong context. He thought I meant physically tired, but oh no, I meant emotional and psychologically. Being the sneering thirteen year-old I was, I rolled my eyes.

That man, in all of his brilliance, never understood what I meant when I said it. Since he didn't, he would try and give me counsel for what I was feeling, even without knowing how I felt. I hated that about him, you know. It was his flaw,

One of my favorite things he told me was a quote by Eleanor Roosevelt. "Somewhere along the line," she once said. "We discover what we really are." Since then, I have strived to get to that point along the line, to discover what I really was. Even today, at seventeen, I have not quite figured it out. Honestly, I doubt I ever will. I guess that's part of life though, living it out to find out who you are. I envy that people that do know who and what they are, because I wonder what it's like. Though sometimes, I wonder how I can envy something I've never known. However, that's human nature for you: to want that which you cannot have. And sometimes, wanting what which you cannot have, it will break your heart.

Fourteen was the first time I ever considered suicide. It was a very hard time for me. Mom was struggling very hard to make ends meet, she worked so hard to put dinner on the table and pay the bills. Sometimes Brad and Drew spared some of their wages if Mom needed it, or I wanted something bad enough, but those times kept coming fewer and farther in between.

I'd sit in the bathtub at night, with only a solitary candle to provide it's soft glow. Most of the time I didn't even light the candle, for I was very fond of the dark at that point. The dark cradled you in its arms; it led you to illusions that everything was fine. I needed those illusions so bad, I would have died to have them. But one time, I had gotten a headache and went into the medicine cabinet. In there was a bottle of Augmentin, a narcotic painkiller of my Mom's. Every night after that, I stared at that bottle and I felt torn. I wanted to take it and down each pill in between sips of Vodka and Sherry. It was eating away at me, that is, until I did it. I knew I hadn't taken enough to kill me, just render me unconscious for a while. The prospect of escaping, even if only for a little while, was just to much.

Brad told me he found me in the tub, still and barely breathing. He called 911 and the ambulance took me to the hospital. It was then that my Mom cancelled my appointments with Mr. Barnabas; she said obviously he wasn't doing his job. I haven't seen him since. However, my Mom has not given up on shrinks. Today I have an appointment with my most recent one, Catherine Willoughby. I don't like her at all. Well, considering I don't like any of my shrinks anymore. None of them have the unique effect or brilliance of wonderful Mr. Barnabas.

"Hello Senka." Catherine greeted when I walked into her office. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Is that a trick question?" I asked, glaring. Apparently she hadn't looked out the window, because in my depression of coming here, I decided to stir up a thunderstorm. "It's raining."

"Indeed it is." Catherine agreed, glancing out the window. "Now please, take a seat."

Sighing, I sat in the chair in front of her desk, and stared at her with a bored look. I hated talking to her. I hated her in general.

"Your mother told me you have a new boyfriend." She tried to begin the conversation. "She said you go to school together."

"Yeah." I muttered. "He's a senior though. Actually, he's repeating his senior year."

"Ah, an older man." Catherine nodded. "I had a thing for them too in High School."

"I don't like him." I stated bluntly. "At least, not the way you're thinking."

"Oh?" she inquired, eyebrows raised. "Then why are you going out with him?"

"Because," I answered, squirming in my chair. "I'm not a slut."

"I never implied that you were one." Catherine assured me, and I sighed.

"That not what I meant!" I informed her impatiently. "I meant that's why I'm going out with him. When you're drunk and you do stupid things, I think defending your reputation is necessary."

"What stupid thing did you do when you were drunk?" Catherine inquired, eyebrows quirked.

"Frankly that is none of your business." I snapped. "And you know what else? Frankly, I am not coming here anymore! I don't want to! I'm almost seventeen and I do not have to take this."

"You're doing to me what you've done to all your other physiatrists, Senka." Catherine tried to soothe me, but I wasn't about to fall for it.

"That's because I've hated almost all of you, and never wanted one in the first place!" I snarled, my teeth clenched. "None of you know anything. You can try as hard and as long as you want, and maybe you'll understand. But you will never, under any circumstances, know what it's like to be me. So don't even pretend!"

That was the first, and last time I ever say a dumbfounded look on that women's face. Her pale eyes were wide with astonishment, I don't think she'd ever heard me utter more than three sentences at any given time or say anything in pure and utter anger. But you know what? I just did. I didn't care if she died of shock or whatever else would happen to her. And that's when I walked right out of there, with anger sketched all over my features. However, once again I didn't care at all. The only thing I cared about was getting far, far away from the stuffy office and out of that part of the city.

Okay, so I know what you're thinking. Stop. Rewind. WHAT?

I know I've never seemed… like this before. Well, that's very true. But let me assure you, there are many times I loose my cool and do stupid thing or yell at people or storm out of offices. Of course, as soon as I got outside I realized it was storming. _How lovely_, I though somberly. Despite the weather I had caused, I began the slow walk to my house, which came just before you hit the burbs'. My family was not your quintessential American family, by Suburb standard. My father had left us long ago, leaving my mother to provide food and bills on her own. Her job didn't exactly pay well. She also had to raise three children, and once Drew and Brad hit puberty, all they could do was eat.

Now see, in the city, that kind of thing is the norm. Hell, having no parents is the norm! However, suburban life normally requires both parents and an only child, or a boy and girl. Both parents either have a well-paying job, or one stays home to be with the kid(s).

((A/N: Excuse me if I sound… I dunno… bias? Excuse me if I sound stereotypical. There.))

On my way home I passed the paper lantern, and considered going in. I was hungry and getting a bite to eat couldn't hurt. So I did. I walked in and the place wasn't crowded at all, in fact, the rough total of people couldn't have been more than twelve. Instead of asking to be seated, I left. I was almost to the next block when I heard someone shout "Senka!" and I turned. Warren was standing five feet or so away, clad in his busboy outfit and his hair tied up tight.

"What do you want?" I asked when he caught up with me. I crossed my arms over my chest and kicked pebbles as we walked slowly back to the Paper Lantern.

"Are you okay?" he asked, very concerned undertones in his words. "You looked… different than usual."

"I guess I'm fine." I sighed. "I stormed out of my psychiatrist's office and basically told her that she could say all she wanted but she was still a quack."

"Wow," Warren snorted. "I didn't even know you had a shrink."

"Yeah well I always have, since I was ten or so. I get new ones every other month or so. They pull that thing where they try and get you to tell them _everything_ and then they try and psychoanalyze you. That's when it's over." I told him. "Or, in Catherine's case, when you ask too many questions about the ethics of who your boyfriend is."

"Which translates to?" Warren asked, slightly amused.

"It means she asks too many of the wrong damn questions." I answered and followed him inside the Lantern. "Um, didn't I just leave here?"

"Stay until I get off shift, I'll give you a ride home." He offered, and I couldn't help but take it. I new what Warren drove, and man was his cycle _sweet_. So basically I sat around eating fortune cookies until Warren was off work. Let me tell you, I ate a lot of fortune cookies, and none of my fortune cookies seemed very insightful. They were all very vague or very odd. Of course, then I got the mother of all joking fortune cookies. "You like Chinese food." I howled with laughter when I read it, I really did. It was the stupidest fortune I've ever got.

"Ready to go?" Warren asked, approaching my table. I shrugged and followed him outside. I was actually very nervous about riding the motorcycle. What if we wiped out or something? Apparently wiping out wasn't an issue for Warren at all because he simply handed me his extra helmet and muttered a 'hop on.' I nervously straddled the bike.

"Senka, you're going to have to hold on to me, or do you want to fall off?" Warren said impatiently. Biting my bottom lip, I wrapped my arms around his waist.

Riding on a motorcycle is the weirdest feeling. The wind is pushing on your face and blowing your hair into it continually. To keep from eating my hair I had to get closer to Warren, my cheek resting against the cool leather of his jacket. That position felt odd, and very right at the same time. I only started to enjoy the ride right before he pulled up in front of the condo. It was hard giving him directions, but eventually we had gotten there.

"Thanks," I said, handing him his helmet back. I got off the bike and started up the walk, but Warren's voice made me turn.

"You're welcome!" he shouted back at me. It had taken him three minutes to do so, what an improvement from normal. I shot him a smile, but to this day I don't know if he saw it. It was this day that I finally understood something someone had told me back before Sky High.

In the eighth grade, I had a friend named Lenora, but everyone called her Lenny. Lenny was the kind of girl who tried to get people to think that she owned the world, and it worked. When people gave her trouble, she could give them one glare and they'd back off. There was something in her brown and green eyes that made you never want to cross her. The only thing she ever had a real problem with were boys. Not boys themselves really, but boys in a romantic sense. She had the hardest time saying no when a guy asked her out. It was the saddest thing, because she'd be walking around with this guy attached at her hip and she wouldn't even like him. It made her utterly miserable. One day she came to a realization and revealed her great epiphany to me.

"Senka," she said. "You can always go out with whoever you say yes to. Be careful why and who you say yes to, because you have to be good about that stuff. When I agreed to go out with Mike, or Jeff, or Blaze, or Fred, it wasn't because I liked them. It was because I couldn't say no. Well, now I see the importance of dating someone you like and who to say no to. If you keep going out with people only because they ask, you find more and more qualities that you hate. Eventually, you don't even think there are any good qualities really out there, and you can't tell what kind of guy is the kind you want, the kind you want to be with. So I leave you with this thought: What is the true point of going out with someone you can't like with all of your heart? It's a lose-lose situation."

I knew then that I couldn't keep pretending with Lash, I had to break up with him. I didn't want to end up like Lenny, no offense to her. She's put off boys entirely, she's now a full-fledged Lesbian. Not that I have anything against Lesbians, I just don't want to be one.

The Next Day… 

It was right after lunch and I was at my locker. Lash came up to me and leaned casually against Donnalee's locker. I was trying to calm down the frantic voices in my head and the butterflies in my stomach, because no matter what, I had to do this. I was not a coward.

"You wanna go to the Halloween dance?" Lash asked, and I sighed. He just had to make this harder.

"No." I said. "Dances are stupid and-"

"Come on Senka! You didn't go to homecoming with me, the least you can do is this." Lash complained, and I rolled my eyes.

"It doesn't matter anyways, Lash. I need to talk to you about something, okay?" I said, trying to get his attention focused.

"No," he demanded, pulling me into a closet. "I need to talk to _you_ about something."

He pinned me up against the wall, his hands gripping my wrists tightly. I glanced up into his eyes and found that they weren't normal, they were glinted with something that usually wasn't there.

"First of all, if I say we're going to the dance, we're going." He demanded, his grip on my wrists tightening. "Two, you hang around Peace too much. Someone might start thinking there's something going on between the two of you."

"Lash, you're hurting me." I said, trying to appeal to the kind side of him. He looked at his hands and my wrists, a look that seemed to be full of disbelief on his face. He let go and stared at his hands for a moment, and I took that moment to walk away.

"Senka, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed to my back as I walked towards my next class. "Senka!"

In study hall, I kept rubbing my wrists subconsciously. I was so disgusted with myself. I had agreed to go out with someone who was on parole, and I was surprised when he pulled something like this? Why didn't I break it off earlier, or better yet, never have gotten drunk? Even now, I wonder what possessed me to do the things I did to get me in that situation. Tears were burning behind my eyes but I blinked them away. Now more than ever, I had to break up with Lash. Something was worrying me, though. If I broke up with him, what would he do in his anger? I was afraid, and I hated to admit it. He had gotten upset about the Halloween dance and given be bruises that would probably last a while over something so trivial, what would he do in a larger situation?

When the bell rang, I quickly got up from my seat. I avoided my locker the rest of the day and stayed close to the people in the crowds. When my last class was finally over, I was really nervous about getting from my locker to my bus. I kept tugging on my shirtsleeves because bruises had already begun to form on my wrists.

I made it outside and to my bus just fine. I sat with Warren because Charlie had the stomach flu (already!) and was out that day. The bus ride seemed longer than ever, and I didn't have a clue why.

"What's wrong with your wrists?" Warren inquired as we made out way towards the outskirts of the city, right outside of the suburbs. "What happened?"

"Nothing!" I muttered, ripping them out of his hands. I avoided his gaze, and he stopped be my taking hold of my shoulders. He turned me towards him and put his hand under my chin, lifting my eyes up to meet his.

"Senka, who did that to you?" he asked, his voice quiet yet menacing. I tried to look away again, but he wouldn't let me. A look of realization dawned upon his face and I mentally flinched. "Did Lash do this?"

"Of course not," I laughed nervously, and kept on walking. His face was grim as he walked beside me.

"I'll kill him." He said venomously. That same angry glint that had been in Lash's eyes that day were then in Warren's deep eyes.

"Don't you dare." I turned and stared him hard in the face. "He'll only get more angry, okay? Just leave it alone Warren. I can deal with it myself."

We had reached my driveway and I walked up it, but I heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like 'apparently not.' With a frustrated sigh, I walked into the house. I went through my usual ritual of watching TV and then making dinner. I changed into a long-sleeved shirt before Brad, Drew, or Mom got home. I couldn't let them see the bruises, they would have asked questions that I couldn't answer.

"Hey babe," My Mom greeted me when she got home. "How was school?"

"It was fine." I shrugged. She gave me one of those Mom looks.

"Fine as in truly fine, or fine as in I don't want to talk about it?" she asked, her face serious. I sighed. I could never hide anything from my Mom. That's the one thing about her being psychic. Eventually she'll find out. In that case, I preferred eventually.

"It was just very frustrating, and I couldn't concentrate. Today was a spazzy day." I told her, and she laughed. I loved my mother's laugh. It reminds me of silver bells, such a beautiful sound. I am amazed, even now, that she can be so happy and keep her heart off of the ground even though she has gone through and seen so much pain.

That night I had a strange dream. I was standing on the moon, looking out at the earth. It looked so serene and pleasant, but appearances are so deceiving. I turned and looked around me, yet I was all alone. I began to walk along, maneuvering around craters until I came upon several sets of footprints. At first I thought they belonged to the first astronauts that set foot on the moon in the Apollo 13 ((A/N: Or was it Apollo 11, maybe? I thought that was the one where they had to return!)) mission. I soon realized that they were not. They led me to a man who had the same midnight hair and oceanic blue eyes as mine, the same defined chin and pale skin. I knew it then that I was looking upon none other than my father, Josef Storm. He saw me and smiled, holding out his hand to me. I took and, and then I woke up.

I awoke in a sort of cold sweat and found that it was time to get ready. I wasn't used to dreams, I had only started sleeping since they put me on some kind of medicine. I was ready in a flash, even though I had plenty of time. I wanted some real breakfast that morning. I made myself cheesy scrambled eggs with wheat toast and orange juice. When it was time to leave, I said goodbye to my brothers (Mom had already left) and headed out to the bus stop. I was fuming when I realized that not only had I taken too much time to make and eat breakfast, but I had walked leisurely and therefore missed the bus by two or three minutes.  
With a sigh, I turned back towards home to hopefully call the school when I almost got ran over by a bus. I recognized the bus driver as the Sophomore driver. He opened the doors when I went to the side of the bus.

"Senka, did you miss your bus?" he asked.

"Yeah…" I admitted sheepishly.

"Hop on in!" He invited me in cheerily. I smiled and thanked him, taking a seat next to Magenta.

"Missed the bus, huh?" she laughed, and I shot her a glare. "Hey, what's up with the fishnets?"

She was referring to the fishnets I had donned this morning to cover my arms, but mainly the bruises on my wrists. (They hooked onto my thumbs) I shrugged and she said nothing more about it. We got to school and I hung around my little Sophomore friends until class started. Everything seemed normal. That is, until lunch came rolling around.

I had just came into the cafeteria to find everyone huddled around two people in a circle. _Not another fight_, I sighed. Then I noticed two familiar heads peeking out from the center of the bunch. I pushed my way through the crowd to see Lash and Warren. Warren had powered up and was hurling balls of fire at Lash, who was flexibly avoiding them and trying to get a hit at Warren. I know I've been angry, I know you've seen me angry. But this, this made more angry than I even know I could be. As the flaming dragon in my heart grew, the sky above the gym was getting cluttered with numerous storm clouds, each flashing lighting as a display of it's strength. Thunder clapped loudly, starling some of the students. The rain hadn't started yet, but it would. In fact, a few seconds later, it began to pour rain and hail. Warren and Lash were both looking around, recognizing my presence instantly. I swear there must have been steam coming out of my ears as I approached them.

"What are you two going!" I cried out, biting on my bottom lip to keep from striking either down in any way. They both turned in my direction, fear sketched on their faces. They were afraid of what I would do, and it felt good.

* * *

And there it was! _The Suicidal Mind_, and it was a bit different from the other chapters. I hope you enjoy, although I don't think the beginning was some of my best work. Always remember, the more reviews the more pages you get in the upcoming chapters! Also, I might make a little one-shot about Senka over the course of the next week because I really feel like it. I think I want to explain what happened with her Mom and her Dad, or something. I dunno. It might even be a songfic. So keep on the lookout for it.

Monday: I'm visiting Western Reserve Academy and I get to have my interview, sit in on two classes, and eat lunch with the students. I'm very excited and I have to find something nice to wear. My version of 'dressing up' is my nice converse (my new plaid, not my rank camouflage) or my nice sandal shoes, my black button-up shirt, and my black cords. Although, I want to buy a nice pair of black slacks and a colorful, maybe white shirt to wear under my blazer/jacket to wear. I really have to make an excellent extraordinary impression. Presentation is everything.

Anyway, sorry for boring you with that, lol.

Chapter Five: Bruised but Not Broken

Due: Tuesday the 17th

Au Revior,

-Kevan


	6. Bruised But Not Broken

Storm Surge

Summary: She's a solitary girl, always staying at a safe distance. She's been staring at the same guy for three years, but she always stays in the shadows. Will Senka overcome her fears? WarrenOC

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. I'm glad you think so.

**Ghostly Green:** I was afraid that no one would like this chapter because of the 'psychological issues'. I'm really happy that you liked it!

**Tenni:** Thanks for reviewing for this and "Parting Gift", I really appreciate it. And just maybe Senka's self-empowerment will change for the better… but I could change it for the worst. Hmmm?

**TheRiz**: Thank you so much for your review. I love it when people tell me why they enjoy my fic and when I hear the comparisons between Senka and other female OC's.

**Nelle07:** Lol, yes Lash isn't greatest person but I don't think he's schizophrenic. ( If that's what you meant my schitzo.) Thanks for your review, and never forget that anyways is spelled a-n-y-w-a-y-s, not n-e-w-a-y-s! smiles

**Crazy4Cocopuffs: **I felt the need to stick Lash in here to create conflict, and I'm glad you think it was a good idea to do so. Lash will stay in the story, but after the last chapter he might not be incorporated in the same way.

Thank you all for your reviews, and thanks for reading this period.

**A request, I have for you! **

When you make a review for this story, please use proper spelling, grammar, capitalization, and punctuation to the best of your abilities. I know this may sound strange, but I am one of those crazy people who go bonkers when people use incorrect spelling and etc. I'm just cool like that.

* * *

Chapter Five: Bruised But Not Broken

"**That which does not kill you will make you stronger."** –Nietzsche

_Last Chapter…_

"_What are you two going!" I cried out, biting on my bottom lip to keep from striking either down in any way. They both turned in my direction, fear sketched on their faces. They were afraid of what I would do, and it felt good._

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about, Senka." Warren answered, hiding his flaming hands behind his back. "We're not doing anything."

"What he said." Lash jabbed his finger is Warren's direction.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I said, and laughed. It was a dry laugh, tired and exhausted. "If you're not fighting, then I'm Charlie Chaplin."

"Hey Charlie." Lash tried to joke.

Both Lash and Warren were trying to look so innocent, but I wasn't buying it. Did they think I was born yesterday or something? I'm not stupid. Inside, I was fuming. I had told Warren _not to interfere_! Why didn't he listen to me? What kind of fool was he? I told him I could take care of this myself, but now I have to take care of both of them.

"Ms. Poe, Mr. Dayton, and Mr. Peace, please come with me." The voice of Principal Powers asked impatiently from behind me. I spun to see her there, tapping her heel against the linoleum floor tiles. I threw glares at Lash and Warren before we all turned to follow Principal Powers to the detention room. I hated the detention room. It was stark white, and all of the brightness gave me a headache. Throughout the entire detention I didn't speak to either Lash or Warren, I just continually stared at the wall. I wanted it clear that I was very mad at both of them.

After we got out of detention, I was almost afraid to leave Lash and Warren in the same wing of the school. With a worried look, I departed to the Hero Support Wing, to my Sidekick Literature Class. I had been deathly excited because we were taking a break from the normal lessons and studying just plain old poetry, not sidekick or hero poetry, just ordinary, everyday, household poetry. Last week we had been asked to pick a poem to read in class, and today was supposed to be my day. The poem I was going to read was titled "Howl," by Allen Ginsberg. It was written in, like, the 50's or something, but I still adored it with all of my heart. I walked into class to interrupt a girl named Berenice (Bear-ih-knee-kay) reading, "A Word is Dead" by Emily Dickinson. I had to wait until after Jaina read "Annabelle Lee" for my turn.

"Senka," asked Mrs. Fender. "What are you going to read for us today?"

"I'm going to read Howl, by Allen Ginsberg." I began. "I know it's quite long and not at all school appropriate and as I said, quite long-"

"Its okay Senka," Mrs. Fender assured me. "This unit is about more than being school appropriate and short and lengthy. It's about expressing yourself through art, how you appreciate it. As long as you aren't here past the bell."

I took a deep breath and began the three part poem, dedicated to Carl Solomon.

"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,  
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,  
angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,  
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats  
floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,  
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs  
illuminated,  
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the  
scholars of war,  
who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,  
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror  
through the wall,  
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,  
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night  
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls,  
incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada &  
Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,  
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront  
boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks  
of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,  
who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of  
wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of  
brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,  
who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford's floated out and sat through the stale beer after noon in desolate  
Fugazzi's, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,  
who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,  
lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State  
out of the moon,  
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of  
hospitals and jails and wars,  
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on  
the pavement,  
who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,  
suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and migraines of China under junk-with- drawal in  
Newark's bleak furnished room,  
who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no  
broken hearts,  
who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grand- father night,  
who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos in- stinctively  
vibrated at their feet in Kansas,  
who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary indian angels who were visionary indian angels,  
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,  
who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight street light smalltown  
rain,  
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard  
to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,  
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and  
ash of poetry scattered in fire place Chicago,  
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the F.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their  
dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,  
who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,  
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos  
wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed,  
who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,  
who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild  
cooking pederasty and intoxication,  
who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manuscripts,  
who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,  
who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,  
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rose gardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering  
their semen freely to whomever come who may,  
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond  
& naked angel came to pierce them with a sword,  
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed  
shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual  
golden threads of the craftsman's loom,  
who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a can- dle and fell off  
the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt  
and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,  
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but prepared  
to sweeten the snatch of the sun rise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake,  
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and  
Adonis of Denver-joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses'  
rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely pet- ticoat upliftings &  
especially secret gas-station solipsism's of johns, & hometown alleys too,  
who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up  
out of basements hung over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemploy-  
ment offices,  
who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open  
to a room full of steamheat and opium,  
who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of  
the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,  
who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery,  
who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music,  
who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts,  
who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates  
of theology,  
who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of  
gibberish,  
who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,  
who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,  
who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their  
heads every day for the next decade,  
who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccessfully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where  
they thought they were growing old and cried,  
who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up  
clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of  
sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,  
who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually happened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the  
ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alley ways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,  
who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Passaic, leaped on  
negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic  
European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears  
and the blast of colossal steam whistles,  
who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other's hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or  
Birmingham jazz incarnation,  
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find  
out Eternity,  
who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver  
& brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,  
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other's salvation and light and breasts, until the soul  
illuminated its hair for a second,  
who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in  
their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,  
who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific  
to the black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave,  
who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hypnotism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung  
jury,  
who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of  
the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding in- stantaneous lobotomy,  
and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psycho- therapy  
occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia,  
who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,  
returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible mad man doom of the  
wards of the madtowns of the East,  
Pilgrim State's Rockland's and Greystone's foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rock- ing and rolling in  
the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a night- mare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the  
moon,  
with mother finally fucked, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at  
4. A.M. and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last furnished room emptied down to the last  
piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing  
but a hopeful little bit of hallucination  
ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you're really in the total animal soup of time  
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipse the  
catalog the meter & the vibrating plane,  
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the  
soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together  
jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus  
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intel- ligent and shaking  
with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,  
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come  
after death,  
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of  
America's naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to  
the last radio  
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.

**II**

What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination?  
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unobtainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys  
sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!  
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!  
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose  
buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stunned governments!  
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies!  
Moloch whose breast is a cannibal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!  
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless  
Jehovahs! Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the  
cities!  
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the  
specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!  
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and  
manless in Moloch!  
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me  
out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!  
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral  
nations! invincible mad houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!  
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pave- ments, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which  
exists and is everywhere about us!  
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river!  
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!  
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! De- spairs! Ten years'  
animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!  
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the  
roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!

**III**

Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland where you're madder than I am  
I'm with you in Rockland where you must feel very strange  
I'm with you in Rockland where you imitate the shade of my mother  
I'm with you in Rockland where you've murdered your twelve secretaries  
I'm with you in Rockland where you laugh at this invisible humor  
I'm with you in Rockland where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter  
I'm with you in Rockland where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio  
I'm with you in Rockland where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses  
I'm with you in Rockland where you drink the tea of the breasts of the spinsters of Utica  
I'm with you in Rockland where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the harpies of the Bronx  
I'm with you in Rockland where you scream in a straightjacket that you're losing the game of the actual pingpong of  
the abyss  
I'm with you in Rockland where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent and immortal it should never die  
ungodly in an armed madhouse  
I'm with you in Rockland where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a  
cross in the void  
I'm with you in Rockland where you accuse your doctors of insanity and plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against  
the fascist national Golgotha  
I'm with you in Rockland where you will split the heavens of Long Island and resurrect your living human Jesus from  
the superhuman tomb  
I'm with you in Rockland where there are twenty-five-thousand mad comrades all together singing the final stanzas  
of the Internationale  
I'm with you in Rockland where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the United States that coughs  
all night and won't let us sleep  
I'm with you in Rockland where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the  
roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse O skinny legions run  
outside O starry spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we're free  
I'm with you in Rockland in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea- journey on the highway across America in tears  
to the door of my cottage in the Western night."

It took me a long time, the rest of the period, the read that poem aloud. I was deeply hoping that this poem was not actually banned from the school, as it had been in my mother's time. I'm sure there was come crazy kid in my class who would actually bother to report me. I hate people like that, the ones who have no life and don't know how not to stick their noses in other people's business.

I went through the rest of the day planning what I would say to Lash, as well as how I would address Warren. It was really nice of Warren and everything, but I specifically asked him to stay out of this, to mind his own business. I love the fact that he cares about me and all, but… He just made me so angry! Anyway, after school, I hunted down Lash. He was hanging out with Speed near the buses, sniggering at a freshman who fell in the mud.

"Lash, can I speak with you?" I asked quietly. He glanced at me passively, and shrugged. I pulled him over and before I could do a single thing he pulled me into my arms and started to kiss me like there was no tomorrow. I'm a girl, you know, and I couldn't help but kiss him back! After he pulled away, I stared at him breathlessly, my lips swelled from his kisses.

"You were saying?" he asked, staring at me intensely. I gulped, but then realized what he was trying to do.

"I think that we should, at the least, take a break from each other a while." I told him, almost dreading his reaction.

"Are you trying to break up with me, Senka?" he asked stiffly, and I nodded a yes. His gaze turned fiery. "Fine, but when fire-boy dumps you on your ass, remember what you're giving up, because I'll be waiting and I'll never leave you."

I stared after Lash with utter amazement written on my features. In a startled daze, I boarded my bus and took a seat next to Charlie. I was silent the entire bus ride, and was silent even during my walk to home with Warren. I just felt so, I don't know, odd? I couldn't stop thinking about what Lash had said to me, about how "fire-boy" would "dump me on my ass" and how he would never leave me, not ever. I wondered how he knew about Warren, and why he would have put up with me all along if he knew.

"Hey Shadow!" shouted Drew from the kitchen. "We're home, so where's the chow?"

I snorted at the hilarity of my brothers, standing in the kitchen staring confused at the empty table and clean kitchen. They were like sheep, almost. It felt cool to seem like the Shepard. Laughing, I heated up a few hot dogs and pulled the buns out of the cupboard. They were all gone in at least three minutes.

Later that night I was up in my room and I hesitantly picked up the cordless phone. I knew Warren's phone number, back from my obsessed days, and I dialed it. He picked up.

"Hello?" Warren asked when he picked it up.

"Warren?" I greeted.

"How did you get my number?" he asked, bewildered.

"I have my ways!" I admitted, laughing. "Anyway, I want to talk to you about Lash."

"You said you could take care of it, Senka." Warren said solemnly, his voice dropping several octaves.

"Yeah, I know and-"

"I saw you after school today, kissing him." He told me, and I could detect a hint of anger and frustration in his voice.

"That was practically all him!" I exclaimed. "Plus, I-"

"I don't want to hear about how you still want to be with him or whatever." Warren cut me off for the second time in our conversation.

"As I was trying to say," I announced impatiently. "I broke up with him."

The line was full of dead silence for a few moments, followed by Warren's "sorry." I laughed it off, saying it was no big deal, and that I had to go. I didn't really _have_ to go or anything, but something was bothering me. Lash and Warren had both been acting strange, and it was driving me up the wall because I didn't know why.

Don't you just hate that? Eugh.

* * *

I'm sorry to have taken up so much of this with the poem and not much story, but I'm short on time this month.I've been really busy trying to get all of my application papers together and finished and I have to register to my back up school next week. I'm sorry I wasn't able to get this up yesterday.

Chapter Six: I'm Not Her

Due: Thursday February 2nd

Yeah, I know, a long time. But that way I'll be all done with my important stuff and February is like, my free month. I'll be expecting a lot of reviews, lol. See you then!


	7. Authors Note!

Authors Note!

Yeah, I got a review that mentioned I haven't posted when I said I would which was like, two weeks ago.

Firstly, I am terribly sorry. I'm not doing any of this, I'm just really, really busy. I barely ever have any free time! On Mondays I have Academic Challenge practice and Rehearsal. Tuesdays I have Meets (sometimes), Volleyball, and sometimes rehearsals. On Wednesday I have Academic Challenge meets (sometimes), sometimes rehearsals, church, and sometimes random things. On Thursdays I have rehearsals, I have my Remedial Math thing, and I know something else goes there but I can't remember what it is. On Fridays I have Yearbook meeting, sometimes. I think I have a few rehearsals on Friday. But a lot of the time I have weekend homework and my extra credit assignments. Saturdays I have Weight Watchers meetings, Volleyball games, rehearsal, and god knows what else. Sunday is my rest day. In between those things I have to do homework and stuff. Yuck. I will post when I can.

THIS STORY IS NOW INDEFIENTLY ON HOLD!

You are free to leave any flames on this decision but hopefully in April my schedule will be more open and I'll have the new chapter up. So until you see the word 'Hiatus' taken away from the summary of this story, it's probably an authors note or an estimated date of the date I'll put up the new chapter.

I really do love you guys,

-Kevan.


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